"We cannot pass the gueux," said Geoffrey, "and I cannot return to the camp; what third course is there?" [Illustration: "HERE IS THE ENTRANCE INTO THE WOODS."] "My lord," said the man, "you saved my life, will you trust yours to me? I know every pathway of these woods, I can take you by a safe road to Busigney if you will take me as your guide; the bypath enters the woods just below here, and once at Busigney you are on the main road again." For a minute Geoffrey consulted with his comrades, then he turned to the peddler. "You seem to be an honest man, we will trust you," he said. "Lead on, we accept your services as guide." The party retraced their steps for about a hundred yards. "Here is the entrance into the woods," said the peddler, as a leafy avenue dimly disclosed itself on the left side of the road. They turned into it, and now they were gently and noiselessly traversing the woods by a smoothly turfed trackway. "To the right," cried the peddler, as they came to a crossway, and Geoffrey perceived that they were now riding in a parallel track to the road they had quitted. The roar of battle had quieted down, but the wind brought to their ears the exultant shouts of the gueux, the victors in the deadly strife. From time to time some dark body would rush across the track or dive into the forest, once indeed a musket-shot was fired at them randomly. These were marauders hastening to the scene of conflict, eager to participate in the spoils. "We must ride quicker," said Geoffrey; "soon the gueux will know of our presence and we shall be pursued." "Beware," said the peddler in reply, "sometimes there are fallen trees across the track. We rejoin the main road in a few minutes." Geoffrey saw the wisdom of this advice, and they rode stealthily forward. Presently they emerged into a clearing and, to their joy, saw the great military road in front of them. Once upon it they put their horses to their fullest speed, there were no further barricades to dread, the peddler told them. In half-an-hour they were in the little town of Busigney, a town held to be neutral by both the contending armies, for it was the patrimony of Mary the Duchess of Burgundy, now the Regent of the Netherlands for Philip. In a few minutes they had drawn up in front of a little hotel, "L'Eperon d'Or," and the peddler, dismounting, entered the house. He quickly returned, accompanied by the "maitre d'hotel." "Here, my lord," he said to Geoffrey, "you can refresh your horses and yourselves also, if you need it, yet I urge you to remember that your foes are near, therefore you may not tarry long." "We owe you a thousand thanks," said Geoffrey. "Will you not take refreshment with us?" "Nay, my lord, it is well-nigh midnight, and I must seek a chirurgeon this night to set my wounded hand in order."